


Birthday Fics

by Ananfal



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Angel Enjolras, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 18:05:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14384118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ananfal/pseuds/Ananfal
Summary: A collection of Les Mis fics for my wonderful partner. First pairing, Cosette/Eponine. Second pairing, Combeferre/Enjolras/Grantaire. Third pairing is Enjolras/Grantaire. All happy endings of course!





	1. Girl Power

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hatnhousejacket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatnhousejacket/gifts).



Eponine sighed softly as she slowly wiped the counter down with a wet rag. It was almost the end of her shift, and gods she was ready to go home. Not that it was a particularly nice place to be, but at least she could sleep there. The bell rung above the door and she concealed a groan before lifting her head and fixing a fake smile onto her face.

“How can I help you tonight?” She asked in a polite voice, right before she froze in shock. Hot. Damn. That girl was smokin’! She gave the girl a very... _very_ long glance over, trailing her eyes suggestively up and down the other girl’s body, ending with giving the girl a wink and a flirtatious smile.

The girl blushed and Eponine smirked, delighted in the response. No pure straight girl would flush like that, they were more likely to be offended than flattered. This was good news for her, regardless of what the girl said afterwards. The girl stammered for a moment, before regaining her senses.

“Um, sorry for coming in right at closing, but I have a question...” She trailed off and Eponine raised an eyebrow, silently prodding at the girl to keep talking. As hot as she was, Ep really needed some sleep. The girl flushed again and Ep admired the color on her cheeks as she burst out, “I need to know if an organization that I’m in can rent the room upstairs for our weekly meetings!”

Eponine leaned against the counter that she had just been wiping and smirked at the newcomer slightly. “I’m not sure about them but I’m sure _you_ can rent the room free of charge, luv.” She said in a salacious tone of voice, making the girl blush again. Eponine leaned back with a sense of accomplishment and smirked again, cocking her hip to the side in a way that she knew made her look attractive.

“I- I...What?” The girl looked so adorably confused that Eponine couldn’t help but smile. She was just too cute!

“Oh come on darling, you’re telling me no one has ever hit on you before? I find that hard to believe.” Eponine drawled, once again looking over the girl’s body. Damn this was fun, but... “My shift’s over in five minutes, so if you want something, you better make it fast, luv. I’ve gotta get home.”

The girl scowled, reminding Ep of an angry kitten. “I already told you what I want! To rent the room upstairs!” She insisted, and Ep almost expected her to stomp her foot and pout like a little kid.

Waving a hand in the air, Ep sighed. “Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a twist. You pay per week, two weeks advance the first time, and you guys have to clean up the mess you guys make up there. The price is posted on the door, you can go up and take a look, but I’m closing up in five, so don’t take too long.” She said, sounding bored while her eyes watched the other girl closely.

She seemed startled, but went upstairs without another word. Five minutes later exactly she came back downstairs, with Ep waiting for her by the door, keys already in her hand. She rushed outside, and Ep watched her run down the street for a minute before locking up and heading home herself.

 

* * *

 

Eponine had no clue what group that girl rented the room for nor when they would meet, so when Grantaire showed up at the bar that Friday evening, she didn’t think twice about it and just greeted her longtime friend with a rare quick hug, earning a soft squeeze and a large grin from him in return.

“So, meet any cute girls recently?” He asked her in a teasing voice as he sat down at the bar and she made him his favorite drink automatically, a smirk overtaking his face as she slid the glass over the wood to him.

“I did actually, a little blonde thing with the most adorable angry face I’ve ever seen. She came in earlier in the week looking to rent the upstairs room for some group of hers. Damn she was fine, R!”

Grantaire, having just taken a sip of his drink, immediately choked on it as he registered what she had just said. She pounded him on the back as he coughed harshly to clear his throat from the liquid he inhaled accidentally.

“Do you know her?” Ep asked him, eyeing him suspiciously as he recovered himself and took another sip of the drink in his glass. He gave a nod but didn’t say any more. She was about to press him for more details when the girl in question walked into the bar, along with a rag tag collection of individuals.

To her right was a blonde male that she could only describe as an angel, sans halo. The two of them seemed to be the leaders of the group that followed them through the doors. Right behind them were a pair of brown-haired men, one wearing glasses and the other running a hand through his curly hair. Behind them was a trio, a small male with a cane sandwiched between a bald man and a wavy-haired brunette with dark skin. Trailing after them was a small mousy looking boy (he didn’t look a day over sixteen, and she wasn’t going to serve him anything until she saw his ID).

They spotted Grantaire and immediately went over to him, cluing her into the fact that R was in the group that was renting the upstairs room. Well, that was surprising. What made it even more interesting to her was when R got up, blushing heavily, and slid his hand into the hand of the blonde angel and pecked his cheek lightly before turning back to her with a sheepish expression on his face.

“So this is him, eh? The angel that stole your heart? Well, I guess I see why you rant about him all the time when you’re drunk.” Eponine said before he could say anything, making him wince and drop his head into the blonde’s shoulder in embarrassment. She laughed before holding out a hand.

“My name’s Eponine, and I’m pretty much the only family this guy’s got, so I guess it’s up to me to tell you that if you hurt him, I’m going to chop off your balls with a rusty knife before feeding them to you with a gallon of my most expensive rum and then making you pay for it all, got it?” She said in a light voice.

The blonde looked apprehensive, but gamely extended his own hand to shake hers. R mumbled something into his shoulder that might have been along the lines of ‘please god make it stop’ but Eponine ignored that with years of practice as she turned to face the second angelic blond, a smirk curling her lips.

“Well hello again, beautiful. I see you brought your friends this time. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?” She said with a wink, making sure that the flirting was so thick a deaf and blind person could understand her meaning. The girl flushed so quickly Ep was half sure she was going to pass out.

The girl rallied quickly, however, and shot back, “Don’t worry, it wasn’t you. It was your alcohol.” Eponine threw back her head and laughed, giving her a genuine smile and a nod before leaning on the counter.

“I see how it is, all you want me for is my alcohol. How could you play with my feelings like that? Oh I’m so hurt.” Eponine put a hand over her heart and grinned at the blonde, getting an answering grin. A quick look at R had him giving her the thumbs up, but his blonde angel didn’t seem so happy.

“To misquote you, my name is Enjolras and I’m pretty much the only family Cosette has, so I’m obliged to tell you that if you hurt her, I’ll...” He seemed to swell up with righteous fury. “I’ll lecture you sternly! For an hour! Nonstop!” Eponine couldn’t help herself; she snorted. And then burst out laughing.

“Nonstop! Gentlemen of the jury, I’m curious, bare with me, are you aware that we’re making history? This is the first....” One of the bar patrons shouted out, but quickly quieted when they realized no one understood what on earth they were talking about. Ep shot him a quick thumbs up from behind her back though.

“I’ll be sure to take your threat into consideration.” She told Enjolras dryly, before turning her eyes back onto her own blonde (Cosette, apparently). “Of course, no one could ever hurt such a beautiful flower as you.” She cooed, fluttering her eyelashes, before laughing again, drawing Cosette with her.

Everyone else seemed to be just staring at them with some mixture of shock and surprise on their faces. Eponine glanced at them, before rolling her eyes. “Cosette, babe, looks like you’re going to have to take these kids upstairs, I think we broke them.” And with that she turned back to her bar counter.

“Will do, hun. And don’t call me babe.” Cosette called back as she began to usher everyone upstairs.

“Only if you don’t call me hun!” Eponine shouted after her, only to receive a trailing laugh. She scowled slightly, but was too amused to keep the expression for long. So the little blonde was a secret spitfire, eh?

Well that was bound to make things more interesting.

 

* * *

 

Cosette was a lot of fun to be around. She laughed at Eponine’s... unique sense of humor, and didn’t mind that she was always plying the other woman with different and unusual alcoholic drinks that she had concocted on the spot or with her specifically in mind. Truly, it seemed like the perfect relationship.

Of course, that was when Montparnasse came to try and ruin things again.

“I should have figured I would find you around alcohol, mon cherie.” His sleek and oily voice came from behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist as she felt his wet breath on the back of her neck.

Twisting out of his arms and hiding the shiver he induced in her, Eponine fixed a sneer onto her face in order to hide her worry and slight fear. “Do you want to order something, or should I just have you thrown out now? Just give me an excuse, you slimy piece of...” She trailed off, trying to contain her anger.

He smirked back at her and waggled one finger back and forth. “Now now, don’t be rude. That’s no way to talk for a lady.” Eponine just wanted to punch that smug look off of his face. How had he found her again?

Instead she simply scowled at him. “I’m no more of a lady than you are a gentleman, Montparnasse. Now tell me what you want or leave!” He smiled at her and ordered the most expensive drink she had on the menu, and she flounced off to serve it to him. She was trying to recover her wits in the backroom when she heard a hesitant voice speak up from the doorway to the storage room.

“Ep? Are you okay?”

It was Cosette, and Eponine let out a hearty curse. She forgot that she was coming early today, and with Montparnasse here it was much too dangerous. Taking a deep breath, Ep grabbed the drink that Montparnasse ordered and went out of the room, taking Cosette by the arm and forcing her to come along.

“You have to leave, you have to get out right now. I’m sorry, but today’s not a good day, come back tomorrow.” Cosette was clearly confused, and probably a little hurt too, but Eponine couldn’t spare the time to explain anything. She tried to ask a question, Ep tried to shush her, but it was too late.

“Who’s this, cherie? A new toy for us to play with?” Montparnasse’s greasy voice came from ahead of them, and Eponine cursed internally. She pushed Cosette behind her and tried to scowl at the slick bastard.

“She’s not a toy, and there isn’t an us anymore. I left you a long time ago, Montparnasse, and you just never got the hint. I’ve got your alcohol, now leave her alone.” She sounded a lot braver than she felt, and was thankful that Cosette had the good sense to be quiet about things she didn’t know about.

“Oh, _Eponine_ , don’t you know by now that you can’t ever leave me? You’re _mine_ , cherie, and I won’t let you go.” He practically purred as he walked forward. She stood her ground, although her hands began to tremble. She had punched him in the face once before, when she had first left, but now, after all the years spent running... she didn’t think she could do it again. Her fists clenched.

That’s when Cosette decided to lose all of her sense and step out from behind Eponine and scowl at Montparnasse, adorably fierce in her protection of her girlfriend. “If Ep is anyone’s, she’s mine.” She said boldly, her chin raising in defiance of the threat she saw in his beady eyes.

“Watch what you’re saying, little girl.” He sneered at her. “Someone less confident than I would take that as a challenge.” He looked down at her, despite being almost the same size. “You don’t want that, I assure you.”

“Au contraire.” In a split second, Cosette had reached forward and grabbed Montparnasse by the balls, her hand gripping and twisting viciously. “I’ve got more balls than you, weasel, and I’m a girl.” She hissed in his face, wracked with pain. Eponine just watched, wide eyed, her breath coming just a little bit faster at the sexy sight of her girlfriend. “Now leave her alone, or I’ll take what little you have.”

Another sickening squeeze of her hand and Montparnasse wheezed his assent, unable to actually form understandable words. Cosette gave him a satisfied smirk and released her grip, allowing the small man to scramble back away from her. He looked between them, tried to say something, before giving up and simply fleeing down the hallway - well, more like limping as quickly as possible.

“Gods, Coco, that has got to be the hottest thing I have ever seen outside of our bedroom.” Eponine breathed out, creating a moment of silence before Cosette burst out laughing, an edge of hysteria in her voice. Eponine couldn’t resist her own weak laughter, leaning against the wall and sinking down to the ground, the long forgotten bottle in her hand clinking against the floor loudly.

Cosette sat down next to her and leaned her head on Ep’s shoulder. “Did that really just happen?” She asked plaintively, and Eponine just nodded silently, her eyes slipping closed for a moment.

“I love you, you know.” She breathed out, and felt Cosette grin against her shoulder and look up at her.

“I love you too, Ep. Even when your baggage walks, talks, and spouts so much shit we drown in it.”


	2. Sharing is Caring

Enjolras sighed as the door slammed behind his roommate - now ex-roommate. That was the fifth one this summer, and it didn’t seem as though he would be able to find anyone he was able to stand in time for the new school year. It wasn’t exactly necessary, but Combeferre (his boyfriend) told him that he needed to make ‘friends’ and a roommate was a good place to start looking for one.

See how well that was turning out?

“I told you this was a bad idea.” He tried to glare at Combeferre, but it was halfhearted at best. He knew that his partner only had the best in mind for him, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t heart-wrenching to see the carefully blank expression on his face after Enjolras got into another fight with his new roommate.

“Maybe... you don’t try and rip apart their entire worldview next time, and they might stay for longer than a week?” Combeferre’s words were sharper than his normal tone, and Enjolras resisted the urge to flinch slightly. His partner gave a weary sigh that made him feel even more wretched.

“I couldn’t bear to live with someone who thinks Bush was an ideal president.” His excuse was weak, and even he could tell. Ferre sighed again, and Enjolras closed his eyes. “I’m... I’m sorry.” And god, that was hard to say.

A warm hand gripped his forearm and Enjolras, knowing how hard touch was for his partner, opened his eyes and gave Ferre a small appreciative smile. But he was still feeling rather down, and it was obvious to his long time comrade, who gave a little tug to the arm he was holding on to gently.

“Come on, let’s go that little cafe that you like, the liberal one that gave you free coffee that one time you went on a pro-Hillary rant in front of their counter.” Combeferre offered in a deliberately light tone, letting go of Enjolras in order to go grab their coats from the hook in front of the door. “It’s cold out though, so bundle up.”

Enjolras couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of Combeferre, all but invisible under the mass of clothing he had covered himself in, pushing up his glasses with mitten-covered hands while his hair peeked out from under the knit hat he had placed on his head. The soft red scarf lay uneven, and Enjolras straightened it for him, earning himself a quick peck on the cheek, before they both headed out into the cold.

 

* * *

 

“- I tried to tell him that it wasn’t my fault, but he didn’t listen, and well - I guess I don’t have an apartment anymore.” Grantaire gave a casual shrug, taking a swallow from the glass of brown liquid in front of him.

Bahorel, his usual drinking buddy, made a sympathetic noise but he just brushed him off. “Oh, I’ll be fine. I’ll get a new apartment in no time. No, I don’t need a place to stay!” He added quickly.

“Dude, you know you’re always welcome at me and Feuilly’s place.” Bahorel’s tone was a bit more serious and soft than Grantaire could take right now and he shook his head slightly, trying for a light hearted tone.

“Nah, you guys barely have enough space as it is. Besides, if I’m around, you guys won’t get to have any ‘alone’ time, if you know what I mean.” A wiggle of his eyebrows got his meaning across and Bahorel roared with laughter, agreeing wholeheartedly while his hand gripped R’s gently for just a moment.

“I’ll just have to look around for a cheap place, no worries. I’m sure there are plenty of places available.” He spoke right as the door opened, sending a blast of cold air circling through the cafe that made him shiver.

“I’m sorry, did you say you were looking for an apartment?” A smooth voice asked, and R looked up into the faces of the two most beautiful faces he had ever seen. His mouth dropped open slightly.

After a small shake of his head to regain his senses (or what little he had of them), he gave a dumb nod. “Yeah.” He finally managed to get out. “But I’m sure I’ll find a place soon, no worries about that.”

One of the strangers, the one with the most winter clothing, gave R a smile that made him want to swoon, while the other gazed at him with dawning horror in his eyes. “You don’t mean-” He started, before the bundle of winter clothing cut him off.

“You’re welcome to stay at Enjolras’ place! He’s looking for a roommate, you’re looking for an apartment, everyone wins.” The one named Enjolras was definitely pouting now, but didn’t say a word of protest. Grantaire swung his gaze back and forth between the two, trying to understand what just happened.

“Wait.” He shook his head. “You-” He pointed at the one dressed like it was the Arctic outside. “-are forcing him-” This time his finger moved to point at the now scowling Greek sculpture. “-to put me up in his apartment. You won’t let me say no, and he’s apparently too whipped to even try? Is that right?”

Bahorel was making no attempts to hide his laughter, nor were most of the other cafe regulars who Grantaire interacted with on a daily basis. The one named Enjolras looked highly offended at his words, while the other one (damn he really needed to learn his name) just gave him a sharp smile.

Throwing up his hands in defeat, Grantaire shook his head and sighed. “I’m not going to even bother.” After a moment of moping, broken only by Bahorel’s laughter, he resigned himself to the inevitable and motioned at the other two chairs at the table. “Please, sit down. I want to know my new roommates.”

“Oh, no.” The bundled one corrected as he sat down gracefully, leaving the scowler to drop heavily into the last chair and frown heavily at Grantaire as if this whole thing wasn’t his boyfriend’s fault. “I don’t live with Enjolras. My parents insisted I stay in the apartment they rented for me, otherwise I would be. My poor socially isolated boyfriend needs to make friends though, so I figured making him get a roommate would be the best way.” Judging from the increased grimace, it wasn’t.

“Um... okay.” Grantaire decided not to touch that one with a ten foot pole, instead turning to his new roommate. “Alright, so is there a list of things I shouldn’t do? Just so we get that out of the way first, and don’t end up killing each other on the very first day.” The angry one straightened up, and R instantly regretted his question.

“Well, first of all...” He started off, only to have his boyfriend cut him off again.

“He doesn’t like messy people, alcohol, or loud noises.” Grantaire concealed a wince. Three strikes for him already, and he hadn’t even seen the place yet. “Oh, and animals. He doesn’t like those.”

“What kind of person doesn’t like animals?!” He asked, horrified. That was... blasphemy! Almost like not liking chocolate. Oh gods, he wouldn’t even ask. He didn’t think he could stand to hear the answer.

“They’re messy, annoying, and loud.” The scowler said, scowling even harder (if that was even possible at that point). His partner just rolled his eyes, a fond smile visible on his face. R figured that was some sort of inside joke between them, and once again left it alone. He really didn’t want to butt in, but...

“Um, are you going to be over a lot? I want to know what times I have to leave the apartment for you guys.” He said, only to have both of them look mystified. Grantaire had never been in this situation before. He tried again. “Like.. if you guys need some ‘alone’ time?” He tried to hint, Bahorel almost collapsing next to him from laughter. “Shut up!” He hissed at his friend before he could make it worse.

“Oh!” The winter clothes got it first, a tinge of red staining his cheeks. “N-no! We... uh, we don’t do that... sort of thing.”

“Combeferre’s touch sensitive.” The second one added, coming to the defense of his partner. Grantaire nodded, not needing further explanation. Eponine had a similar problem, and it had ended previous relationships. It seemed as though scowler (wasn’t his name Enjolras?) didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, alright. I’ve, uh, only got the one bag with me...” It was a ratty old thing currently under the table. It held all of his worldly possessions (not much, really), and just thinking about how small it was made him itch for a drink, so he moved on quickly. “So it won’t be too much trouble for me to move in.”

It was clear the pair were taken aback, but Mittens quickly recovered and gave him a quiet smile, before turning a much brighter one onto his partner. “I’ve got to head back to my flat before my parents call, so why don’t you grab a coffee and take... your new roommate and show him around your place?”

“We don’t even know his name.” Grumpy protested, but grudgingly dipped his head in agreement, causing Mittens to quickly press a kiss to his curly haired head and give a small wave to Grantaire before taking his leave.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been a week since that... strange and eventful meeting, and Grantaire has never crushed on two people at the same time before. And so hard, either. They were just so... so... cute! Especially together, but even apart. After moving in that very same day (he managed to take up as little space as possible, both to give Enjolras more room and also to reduce the amount of space he had to keep clean), he mostly stayed out of the apartment, pretty much only spending time there at night to sleep.

It was really hard to watch Mittens and Grumpy together. They just... fit. And no matter how much Grantaire wanted them, he knew that he would only ruin what they had. So he left well enough alone, and removed himself from temptation as much as possible. This had the added benefit of making sure that the amount of times he could offend either of them was decreased, increasing his chances of keeping the apartment.

“You’ve been avoiding us.”

The voice came out of nowhere, making Grantaire jump. He looked up to see Combeferre leaning against the doorframe to his bedroom, eyeing him critically through the wire frame glasses perched on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grantaire denied, hastily grabbing a set of spare clothes to change into and turning to move past Ferre towards the bathroom. In a surprising move, the normally passive man shot out an arm to stop him, blocking his path forward. Grantaire stopped in his tracks, unwilling to physically touch him. He knew Mittens was touch sensitive, and didn’t want to use that against him.

“Does our relationship offend you somehow? Are you homophobic? Is that it? Can’t stand to see two males together?”

“What?! No!” Grantaire was almost offended, but he guessed it was a reasonable assumption given their lack of information about him. Still, to think that he was homophobic while he was crushing on  _ two _ men...

“Then what is it?” Combeferre’s voice softened. “This is your place now too, and you’re almost never here. All of your stuff is still packed in your bag, and you never spend time with Enjolras or me. It’s almost like you’re ready to leave at any moment. Are you worried we’ll kick you out for some reason?”

Grantaire sagged against the wall, closing his eyes. How on earth could he explain this to Ferre without offending him, or revealing too much about his feelings? Gods curse it, why was life so difficult?

“Grantaire... please.” And with that Combeferre reached out and gently touched his fingertips to the back of R’s hand. He couldn’t help but suck in a breath, knowing how hard touch was for the other man. And to willingly touch Grantaire in a way he had only seen him touch Enjolras... well that was an eye-opener.

“I’m... not a good person.” He rasped out, unable to look at the other man in the eyes, instead just staring at the fingertips that slowly began to rub back and forth, transfixed by the slow gentle motion on the back of his hand.

“I think so, and so does Enjolras.”

“You haven’t seen all of me yet.”

“So show us.” The new voice startled Grantaire into looking up, only to find that Enjolras had joined them at some point, his brilliant eyes fixed upon him. “I know I’m eager to find out about my... new roommate.”

“Our new friend.” Combeferre chimed in, before he smirked slightly. “And perhaps more, if I haven’t misjudged the coy glances you’ve been sending us, Mr. Big R.” Grantaire cringed back slightly.

“Oh yes, we’ve seen.” This time it was Enjolras’ turn to smirk. “You aren’t as discreet as you thought you were. But you’re still too blind to see the looks we’ve been sending back, mon colocataire.”

Grantaire shook his head weakly. “You guys don’t know what you’re getting into. You’ll regret this later...”

Combeferre laughed. “We don’t know now, but we’ll enjoy finding out. Don’t worry about a thing, Grantaire. That’s our job.”

Enjolras reached forward to take Grantaire’s hand, causing him to jerk a little, but not pull back completely.

“Let’s go to that cafe you like.” Combeferre suggested to Enjolras, the two of them smiling at each other before turning that same smile onto him, making him shudder helplessly, caught between them.

“Which one is that?” He asked weakly as he trailed behind them, still not letting go of Enjolras’ hand.

“The one where we met you, of course.”


	3. Hex Bags and Health Potions

Grantaire awoke from what had to be the worst hangover in the entire creation of alcohol. He was laying on the floor in his trashy *cough cough  _ witchy  _ cough cough* apartment, surrounded by random bits of junk and some weird smelling crap. At least, that’s what it would be to anyone else but a witch.

Nah, it was mostly just random stuff to Grantaire at the moment too, but that was due more to the fact that his head was pounding like five kangaroos hopped up on catnip were tap dancing in there... accompanied by jackhammers? The shit he thought of up there was just plain weird sometimes, man. (Read: most of the time.)

Groaning slightly, he levered himself up until he was at least semi-upright, gazing around him in confusion. What on earth had he done here last night? He could barely remember past the fourth glass of magic-imbued scotch he had drank in quick succession, hoping to drive a certain blonde angel out of his mind.

Maybe if he identified what ritual he had done last night, he would remember what else he had done and more importantly, why he had done it. Sage, well that could be used for almost anything. Some other herbs mostly used to clarify the mind and set the mood - his heart stopped.

Apple blossoms. Jasmine. Poppy seeds. Rose petals. Meadowsweet leaves. All herbs with one thing in common.

Love spells.

Fuck. What the fuck had he done last night? Fuck. More importantly,  _ who _ the fuck had he done last night?

He had a vague recollection of the dim lit room, air smoky from the incense, his breaths coming in pants as he powered the love ritual with the oldest trick in the book: sexual energy. It was just him and his hand last night though, and his thoughts (as always during this activity) stumbled straight to...

Fuck. Enjolras. Two words that really didn’t go together except in his fantasies but still. Gods and Goddesses.

Grantaire was struck with the half-formed idea about going to confront Enjolras with what he had done. Yes, that made sense. Confess his crime and remove the spell, weather the storm that Enjolras would level upon him for the desecration of his holy being, and limp away to lick his wounds.

Basically, the usual.

It was almost a routine between them now. Grantaire would go to the weekly witching meetings where the majority of the local magicals hung out, inevitably offend Enjolras with a snarky comment or a particularly loud swallow of whatever alcohol he had on him at the time, and get yelled at by the guy with wings.

But he always went back.

What a fucking masochist. But he loved the blonde blue-eyed angel, loved him with a passion that burned him up from the inside. Loved him with a bitter taste in his mouth every time the only way he could get Enjolras to look at him was to get him angry. Loved him with an empty ache in his chest when he thought of the fact that his angel, his heavenly being, would never stoop so low as to be with him.

Never Grantaire.

Exhaling, he shook his head. There was no point in thinking of this now. He had to get up, take a shower, get dressed, take a health tonic he had created for days like these, and head to the bar where the meeting was held in order to apologize and try to make up for the mess he had created. Again.

And if he cried a little in the shower? Well, no one knew but him, and it didn’t really matter. There would be more tears in his future, he was sure of it. As long as he loved Enjolras, there always would be.

 

* * *

 

 

Unhappily sober now due to the health tonic he had thrown back in his apartment, Grantaire opened the door to the bar, the Magical Pony or something like that. No one ever called it by its name anyway, so no one ever bothered to remember it. There were loud sounds coming from upstairs, the usual meeting place for their witchy group. How strange, usually it only got loud  _ after _ he got there, not before.

Heading to the base of the stairs, he was about to head up when Combeferre skidded down the stairs, stopping him from advancing further. His glasses were tilted, his shirt disheveled, and all around he looked like he had just been in some sort of scuffle. He was also out of breath, again an unusual state for the normally cool and collected man. Worried, Grantaire opened his mouth to speak when Ferre cut him off.

“R, you’ve got to tell me. What did you do last night while you were drunk?” It was almost a given that on the night after any major fight between him and Enjolras, he would get blackout drunk in order to try and get rid of his pain. It never worked (he was a morose drunk) but it was all he could do.

“Ferre, I messed up big last night, I know, but I’m here to fix it. Now, where’s Enj-” Grantaire started out, trying to soothe his friend from his frantic state. However he was interrupted by a wild cry from upstairs.

“Grantaire!”

The next thing he knew, a blur of white and gold went hurtling down the stairs (not touching the ground?) and impacted against him, sending them both crashing to the floor. By the time the stars from his head hitting the ground faded enough for him to see, the world was all white. Wait, what?

“Enjolras?” He croaked out once he realized what he was seeing. White wings, spread out to their full extent (a rare sight), and surrounding the two of them in a feathery dome that blocked the outside world from reaching them. He looked down at the gold-haired head against his chest, who was... crying?

“Grantaire!” Enjolras wailed, actually  _ wailed _ . Those two thoughts should never go together, but it was true. “I’m so sorry!” What. The. Actual. Fuck. Wasn’t that what he was supposed to say? “I’ve hurt you so much! How can you ever forgive me!” Now Grantaire was even more confused. What was going on?

“Enjolras... Enjolras! Listen, I’m not sure why you’re apologizing to me of all people, but I’m sure that whatever you did, I can forgive you for it. Don’t worry about it, okay?” He tried to soothe the distraught blonde, but it really didn’t seem to help. Instead, he just collapsed into fresh tears and buried his face in Grantaire’s shirt.

Was this... the result of his love spell last night? Grantaire swallowed hard. All he had wanted was for Enjolras to know the pain he felt, to fall in love with someone so that he could understand what Grantaire was going through. That was all. Not... this. Whatever this actually was.

“I’m sorry, Grantaire, I’ve hurt you so much.” Enjolras finally spoke again, looking up at him with a tear-stained face and sniffling loudly. He was about to ask how, but the blonde continued going. “I’ve- I’ve yelled at you, and insulted you, and hurt you so much! I love you so much, R, I’m sorry!”

His heart stopped again for the second time since waking up this morning. Did he really just hear that?

“You... you love me?” He managed to get out past the lump of his heart rising into his throat, choking him on hope.

“I woke up this morning and all I could think about was you, and how much I hurt you! I tried to get to you right away, but the others wouldn’t let me! They were going on and on about spells or something, but I know that my love for you is true! Please say that you love me too!” The angel all but begged.

The ritual. Of course. He should have known it was too good to be true. He should have known... but anyway.

“Of course I love you too, Ange.” He said in a strained voice, trying to smile. He reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out the purified salt he had brought along. His eyes closed as he fisted a handful and pressed it to Enjolras’ chest, as close to his heart as he could. “Spell, be broken.”

He could feel the energy rushing out of Enjolras and into the salt, the spell breaking easily since he was the original caster. After the energy stopped moving, his hand fell limply, the salt scattering over his shirt and sticking to his sweaty hand. He kept his eyes closed, struggling to breathe.

He waited for any hint of a reaction from Enjolras, yelling, screaming, a punch. Anything. But there was silence, and finally he gathered up the courage to open his eyes. A gasp flew out before he could stop it.

Enjolras was gone.

Then Combeferre was there, pity in his eyes but none on his face. He held out a hand to help lift Grantaire up, but he ignored it and curled up on the floor, hunching over his stomach like it was hurting.

He could feel the salt irritating his skin, but he didn’t move. Instead he ground the grains further into his skin, his trembling breaths keeping the burning in his eyes from spilling over. He couldn’t seem to move.

Eventually he found himself sitting in a chair with no real knowledge of how he had gotten there. A damp washcloth was being wiped over his hand, clearing off any traces of salt. Finished there, the cloth moved to his stomach, hesitated for a moment, before continuing to wipe the granules away.

The crystal pressed into his hand after the cleaning was done told him who had done it: Eponine. She was helping in the only way she knew how, but it didn’t affect him. He was cold, numb.

The others all tried to help too, and he ended up with a small collection of various items supposed to make him feel better. A warm candle, the tip already burning with a small blue flame courtesy of Musichetta and Feuilly. A flower crown and a cup of tea from Jehan. A carefully written down series of numbers from Combeferre, while Cosette wrapped a shawl around his shoulders that she had made herself. Bossuet gave him a lucky penny (tripping on the way back to his seat) and Bahorel gave him a still warm brownie. Eponine’s crystal was still in his hand.

But still, he couldn’t seem to make himself look up at them, instead just whispering a soft thank you.

 

* * *

 

Someone must have called him, because otherwise there would be no reason for him to come back so soon.

Let alone to talk to him.

Enjolras stood before him, resplendent as always, no sign of the earlier events anywhere on his person. Grantaire couldn’t look up, just sat and trembled slightly like the rabbit did before the snake.

“You performed a ritual last night. On me. To make me fall in love. With you?”

He shook his head mutely. He could imagine Enjolras nodding, just once, in understanding. Always so curt.

“Why?”

Finally Grantaire managed to find his voice.

“Because I love you.”

There was a pause.

“I see.” And somehow, he believed him. Enjolras had a way of doing that, of making people believe him when he spoke. “Once you realized what you had done, in the morning, you immediately went to fix it.”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Grantaire nodded anyway. His hands were shaking slightly. What was the purpose of this? Why was Enjolras here, talking to him, acting as if he  _ understood _ ?

Suddenly warmth surrounded him, and he realized Enjolras had spread his wings around them once more. His breath began to speed up when he knelt before him, one hand tilting up his chin so they looked into each other’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.” They said at the same time, a small noise making its way out from Grantaire’s throat afterwards.

“Why are you sorry? I... I cursed you. It could have been so much worse. You shouldn’t forgive me.” The fact that he hadn’t forgiven himself went unsaid, but it was hanging in between them, silently.

“I’m sorry because the spell made me realize something that I’ve been denying for quite some time.” Enjolras’ lips curled up into a small smile and his eyes softened in a way that made Grantaire want to cry. “I’ve been rather cruel to you, haven’t I, Grantaire? I’ve went out of my way to hurt you.”

He wanted to deny it instinctively, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth.

“Do you want to know why?”

He already knew why, he didn’t want to hear it, not in Enjolras’ perfect voice, didn’t want to be told he was nothing-

“Because I’ve loved you for quite some time as well, Grantaire. You’ve always been the one to make me feel.”

He was crying now, sobs shaking his body as he tried desperately to assure himself this wasn’t a dream.

The warmth of Enjolras’ arms encircling him finally broke him, and the two clung to each other, wrapped in white wings.


End file.
